Pond Song 4.20

We must be diffident about saying what God in self is, but we must dare. G&B 281

up early to the pond__even the mudflats shine

no clouds in that mirror__empty depths define

the word unspoken here__far out in the middle

ducks gather heads down__the silence of that huddle

is what I come to hear__what I hear is the dogpark

on the other side the whine__the all-too-human bark

Coming to goodness through the good of the ‘to be,’ the community of agapeic service offers an absolute sign of the God of the between, an absolving sign of God in the between. G&B 282

dad would say somedays__all you get is experience

Palm Sunday Passover yes__out here making sense

of grey on grey and pale__meanders at low tide

between drops of cold light rain__spaces luminous and wide

deliverance towards the ethos of the between and its signs G&B 43

tides flow without purpose__I’m still waiting here

in March sun by the pond__watching gulls steer

into the blue-bright wind__from any perspective

the emptiness not blank__the wonder that we live

One goes out, out of a porosity of selving that is also a too muchness. G&B 43

Houses wink from the hill__above the pond rank

with run-off in this rain__the tide never stank

like this the wind roars__in my ears the gulls cry

riding the wind nowhere__but down the dark sky

darkens the water to black__the squeals overhead

go white on the surface__say more than can be said